I’ve forgotten how to write.

I’m sitting here, writing implement in hand, attempting something I haven’t done in ages; namely, to compose a piece of literate and legible writing, without the aide of a computer.

Once upon a time, I swore I’d do nothing else. I vowed I would never surrender to the technological age, and would continue to slay foes with my mighty pen.

I recall a time, not long ago, when the thought of writing an essay, letter, poem or anything without several hand-written rough drafts seemed impossible. How could I create what I couldn’t touch? How could I edit what I couldn’t feel? No furious scribbles, no red pen marks, no scratches, no white out. It seemed impossible to construct a written work without these things.

So many times, I have felt the spark of inspiration, had the urge to create, wanted to write, but rarely when I am in front of my computer.

Inspiration knows nothing of convenience.

And so, I will now set out on a journey upon which I’m certain to encounter many setbacks. Beginning today I will attempt to remember how to write (albeit aided by technology) about the things that are important and inspiring to me in this moment.

Now if I could just remember what they are…

(Carefully transcribed to my computer, from my well-loved spiral notebook.)